Page 5 of Night Watch
Kennedy!Was she okay?
Erik charged toward her floating home, his heart pounding.
The lights were all out, the home illuminated only by the moon. Maybe she was asleep. Or maybe something had happened. He crossed the short gangway to the house, quickly adjusting to the subtle movements below his feet.
The front door stood open, heavy pry marks on the jamb.
A break-in. Someone broke in. Was it the guy he’d rammed into in the parking lot?
Erik’s gut cramped hard.
He drew his gun. He wanted to call out Kennedy’s name, but he couldn’t signal his approach to any intruder. He slipped past the small kitchen immediately inside the door and entered the attached living area. Her purse and phone sat on a table. So shewashere.
He noted a spiral staircase to an upper level but moved past it to the back wall with a sliding door. The latch was closed and locked.
All clear. No one on the back deck.
He turned to the twisty metal staircase. He’d be an easy target on those stairs.
So what?
If Kennedy was in danger upstairs, he would move heaven and earth to get to her. Even after she hurt him more deeply than any person had ever done.
He cocked his head, listening. Only heard the river lapping against the deck and the wind howling outside. He started up the steps. The first one creaked.
Father, please protect me. Protect Kennedy too.
Gun raised, he wound slowly up, his breath shallow, his heart thudding. Step by step. Up higher. One by one. He popped his head above the landing and peered down a hallway. No movement. He quickly took the last few steps.
Slow down. Be careful. You can’t help her if you’re dead.
He emerged onto the second floor. The first bedroom door stood partially open. He pressed on it. The wood slammed into a dresser someone had shoved almost all the way in front of it. Almost, but not enough.
Had Kennedy been trying to keep an intruder out? Had he gotten in and killed her?
No. Oh no. Please.
Heart in his throat, he entered. His breath left him at what he might find on the other side of the bed.
Fighting for air now, he eased forward. Glanced around the bed. No one. But the patio door was wide open.
He stepped onto the small deck. No sign of Kennedy.
He started to return to the bedroom but heard whimpering.
“Kennedy?” he called out. “It’s Erik.”
He stepped closer to where the sound had originated.
“Erik Byrd,” he added in case she’d forgotten all about him.
“Erik. Oh, thank God. Is he gone?” Her words came out between chattering teeth. “The intruder?”
His heart swelled at hearing her voice. “There’s no one here. I’m coming.”
“I jumped,” she said, her unsteady voice setting a blazing fire of anger in Erik’s gut. “Hid. Got stuck and can’t move. Too much pain. Oh, please hurry. Down here. So cold.”
He bolted for the stairs, swallowing choice words as he tried to maneuver the confounded circular thing in a hurry. River temps at this time of year would be in the sixties, too cold for a swimmer not wearing a wetsuit. He had to move.
